A Broken Romance
by Padfoot Princess
Summary: A saga! How becoming. H/H, H/R, H/C, all snowballed into one big fan fic! Please read, mush and fluff are included! Sad, happy, sappy, and lots of other things! NEW CHAPTER ADDED TODAY!Read!
1. A Romance Begins

A Broken Romance

A Broken Romance

[With a little Hogwarts mixed in]

Chapter One

Today. She had to do it today. Every day for over four years she had told herself that but every day for over four years she had lost the courage. But this time she was determined. Her heart, more so than her mind, told her that today was the day. She had precious little time left. It was the end of her first semester at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. And now was her only chance. As predicted by many, she was prefect for Gryffindor House and Professor Dumbledor himself secretly told her that in her seventh year she would become Head Girl if her grades didn't drop. Which of course they wouldn't. Like last year, there would be a ball. But this one had nothing to do with the Triwizard Tournament, and had a different theme. It was called the St. Valentines Dance because, unbeknownst to most, St. Valentine had been a very powerful wizard. They were celebrating the day he died, rather than February 14th. And Hermione knew that today was the day that Harry was planning on asking Cho Chang to the dance. She shook as she got dressed. She spent more time than usual making herself look nice, adding makeup and SleekEazy mousse to her hair as she had at the Yule Ball. But she was not going with Krum. She had, however, went to Brazail with him over summer vacation. But there something horrible had happened. Krum got engaged. Hermione got enraged. She had came all the way to Brazail to see him and he runs off with some French priss! It was than that she realized how much she was deeply in love with Harry Potter. She used to think it was some silly schoolgirl crush because they were, after all, a boy and a girl and it was bound to happen. But now she knew it was not just a petty crush. When she was with him her breathing was hard and her hands shook. Whenever they parted she went into a kind of trance, where all her thoughts were based upon him and only him. But no more. For today she would reveal her feelings to him and he would smile and take her up in his arms and embrace her….how many times had she replayed that fantasy in her head? Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of her dormitory. It was early yet. Hermione knew Harry woke early on Quidditch Saturdays and this just happened to be one of them. She hoped to catch him right before he left the Great Hall for practice. The match was against Ravenclaw, Cho's house, and she knew if she asked him after the match he would be so swooned after staring at her for so long that he wouldn't even understand what she was saying. As she took bold steps toward the potrait hold out of the common room, the last person she wanted to see at the moment scared the crap out of her and tapped her on the shoulder. Hermione yelped and jumped up before realizing it was only poor Neville. "Er, Hermione?" "Yes, Neville?", Hermione replied in an exasperated tone. "Well I was wondering…Erm….If you would umm, if it wasn't too much trouble, and if you weren't already doing anything, if you would umm.." "Yes Neville?" Hermione snapped. "Go to the ball with me" said Neville very quickly. Hermione's jaw dropped. She hadn't expected him to say that. She was repenting her shirtiness with him just seconds earlier. Her expression softened. "Oh Neville! I-can I get back to you on that?" "Sure!" replied Neville excitedly, obviously astonished she hadn't said no right away. "Well..see you than Neville." "See you!" "_Great_" thought Hermione "_I just get the courage to ask my dream boy to the ball and the class dork asks me_" Shaking her head, Hermione made her way to see Harry. As she reached the Great Hall, she could hear talking coming from inside. That was odd. Even this early in the morning there was enough conversation in the Hall to not be able to pick out one specific one. Curiously, she opened the doors to find the most shocking scene in front of her. There were only two people in the Hall. Two people wrapped around each other, talking in low tones to each other…obviously not aware of her presence. The girl had long, shiny jetblack hair and a slim, tall figure. The boy-and here was were Hermiones nightmare began-had messy, stuck-up-in-the-back black hair and huge, icy green eyes. And across his forehead-Hermione let out a dry sob. Across his forehead was a lightning-shaped scar. The girl, who turned her head at the noise, was none other than Cho Chang. Hermione was too late. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she ran back up the stairs…down the corridors…through the secret doors and up to the picture of a fat lady in a pink dress. Hermione, in a terrible state, uttered the password, flung herself into the common room, up the stairs to her dormatory and onto her bed. She ripped the curtains shut and performed a muteness spell so that no one could hear her weeping. For hours she stayed there, howling silently like a wounded dog. She recalled every time she fell for him…all the Quidditch matches…all the times he faced Voldemort and every time came back, unscathed. She could see the times they went through together, remembered fondly every second she had spent with him, even when they were fighting. And still the tears poured down her cheeks. She shook madly, overcome with fits of sobs. It seemed as though her pain would never cease. She knew she was missing the Quidditch game but she didn't care. She didn't think she could ever look at him again. 

Meanwhile, at the Quidditch game….

"Where is Hermione?" asked Ron. "I talked to her just this morning", answered Neville. "She seemed fine last night", added Lavender Brown, a girl in her dormatory. "Are you sure you didn't see her again this morning Neville?", inquired Ron, his brow furrowed in worry. "No! I just asked her to-talked to her before she left for the Great Hall for breakfast this morning". "What about Harry? Maybe he knows", implied Parvati Patil. "Harry has been with Cho Chang all morning, doing God only knows what", said Ron bitterly. "Cho Chang?" Lavender and Patil said, shocked, mouths hanging open. "Yeah, they just hooked up last night, didn't you hear?" asked Ron. "No!" Patil and Lavender cried out together. "Well I hope she turns up", said Neville, "For more than one reason." But no one seemed to have heard him. All eyes were on the Quidditch match, during which Cho and Harry would be facing each other as seekers. The match was an intresting one. Because Harry and Cho seemed to almost be attached at the hip, they cought the snitch almost simuntaniously, each refusing to grab it before the other, and during such playfull spats the golden snitch would fly off again. It was a long, rough two hours before the game ended. Harry and Cho seemed to not want to leave each other to go to the locker rooms and only did so when they promised to not be longer than two minutes. After precisly two minutes each came out and hugged as though it had been two years instead. Ron shook his head disgustadly and waited until he and Cho were only holding hands to go talk to Harry. "Harry?" he said. "Yea?" replied Harry, tearing his eyes away from Cho's. "Have you seen Hermione this morning? She's missing-she even missed the game!" As one, Harry and Cho shook their heads. "That's strange. But, no, I haven't seen her" Harry said. Ron nodded as he headed up to the castle. He, especially, was missing Hermiones' company because without Harry to talk to she was all he had. Trudging up to the doors to the castle, Ron jumped as Draco Malfoy tapped him on the shoulder. He turned. "So, missing your filthy mudblood friend Ron? After all, with Harry with Cho, you don't have anyone to talk to". Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's cronies, sniggered stupidly. Something inside Ron snapped. "DON'T-CALL-HER-THAT!" He yelled, shaking. "Oh really Weasel? What are you going to do about it? Have your savage friend Hagrid give me detention?" He snorted in laughter. Ron pulled back his fist somewhere to Wales and brought it back to hit Draco squarely in the chin. "Or _that_." Cried Ron, triumphantly. Draco staggered to the ground, holding his injured chin. "I'll get you Weasly!" He uttered, because it was obviously painful for him to speak with his jaw like that. Ron ran in breakneck speed to the Gryffindor common room. Without pausing to think, he threw himself into the girl's dormitory. "Come out Hermione, I know your in here!" He shouted shrilly. 


	2. A Romance Continues

A Broken Romance

A Broken Romance

[With a little Hogwarts mixed in]

Chapter Two

Slowly, very slowly, Hermione lifted her wand to perform the anti-muteness spell. She looked a terrible mess, her eyes were puffy and red, her nose was running and her hair had strongly rebelled the mousse, coming out looking like it had been through 1,000 watts. Her hand trembled as she drew back the curtain to her four-poster. She hadn't even the strength to be angry at Ron for being in her dormitory. "Oh, Hermione!" Yelped Ron, "You've been crying!" Hermione nodded slowly, as though still inept to world moving and changing with great speed around her. Ron walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. She collapsed into him, letting herself give in to her feelings and cry in Rons' gentle grip. She didn't know how long they stood there, Ron caressing her long russet hair. Hermione lay her head on Rons' shoulder and Ron blandly swayed. After what seemed like hours, Hermione looked up at Ron and, tears streaming down her cheeks, brushed her lips against his. The kiss was short and innocent, but still meant more to Ron than anything else in the world at that moment. Just as their lips parted they heard a shrill scream. "RON!" The voice was Professor McGongalls'. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THE GIRLS' DORMITORY??!" Quick as a flash, Hermione pulled herself away from Rons' warm caress. It was than that the professor realized what they had been doing. She seemed to look sympathatic. "Ron, I must insist that you leave this instant. This is the first and only warning. Next time you will be punished." Ron walked numbly toward the door, and Hermione made a move to follow him. Professor McGongall put up a hand to stop her. "Not you, young lady. I need to have a few words with you". Dreading what was to come, Hermione sat back down on her bed, while watching Ron disappear down into the common room before Professor McGongall shut the door. "I can see you've been crying, Miss Granger." "It's nothing, professor" replied Hermione. "It must have been, if it kept you upset that long, and you weren't quiet about it, either" "What?" asked a puzzled Hermione. "Teachers, in fact, most grown witches and wizards, can hear through an underage wizard's muteness spell. I just happened to have heard you before the match and was going to come up than but had to referee. Now, I must request that you tell me what is the matter. And lying won't help, because I have a truth potion right here and I will use it if necessary." Pausing, Hermione swallowed and began. "I liked this –this guy" But before she could continued Professor McGongall interuppted "Harry Potter…do go on." Shocked that she knew, Hermione continued "And-and today I-I saw him with Cho at a, er, bad time and I'm-I'm afraid that it upset me." There was no need to doubt it now, Professor McGongall definitly had a look of pity on her face and when she spoke it was in the softest tone she had ever heard her use. "Hermione, I know what you must be going through right now." She halted for a second and Hermione wondered how she could possibly know what she was feeling. But before she could ponder, the professor started up again. "It is for that reason that I cannot comfort you in any way. I can only promise you that when this does end, it will end the right way and for the best." And with that she left, shutting the door with a tiny click behind her. For a moment Hermione didn't move, but when she did it was not with the usual grace she normally had. She stumbled down to the common room, which was empty save for Ron. She succumbed herself into his arms once more, sitting silently while Rons' hand patted her on the back. Sometimes, for the long while they were positioned there, they would kiss, but always breifly for fear someone would enter the room. It was during once such kiss, perhaps longer than the others, that someone _did_ enter. Neville. He gasped and ran right back out again, obviously upset. Hermione called out after him but he didn't respond. "What was that about?" inquired Ron. "He asked me to the dance earlier today and I'm afraid I said I'd get back to him and now-"And now he thinks you've been putting him on." Finished Ron. Hermione nodded. "Well you'd better go sort it out with him", said Ron, "If he's not already telling the whole school about this." Hermione smiled weakly, and kissed Ron for a second before getting up to find Neville. She walked stallingly, figuring that Neville was probably at lunch in the Great Hall. Her guess was dead on. As she ambled into the massive eating hall, Neville could be seen at the Gryffindor table. The rest of the table was looking at her expectantly. Fred Weasly was the first to speak, saying "Hermione! So nice to see you! Where have you been the past week? I'm sure Malfoy (and here several members of the Gryffindor House Quidditch team muttered things such as 'little git' and the like) missed you", his voice dripping with sarcasm. Hermione smiled another faint smile. "That'll happen" she said jokingly. George Weasly added his two cents to the conversation, stating "Well Neville was the first of us to spot you and you won't believe what crazy story he came up with, you and Ron, that's a laugh.." Quietly, Hermione responded "It's true." Fred and George gaped, Lavender and Patil squealed and giggled, and Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell looked questionatly at her. Katie murmured "What about Harry..?" Hermione looked abashed. "What about him?" asked George, trying to look innocent. Katie snapped "You know what!" Hermione, confused, asked Alicia what they were talking about. In undertone, Alicia explained, "Last night word got out that he had a huge crush on you. He was going to ask you to the ball but couldn't find you. He figured that you heard the rumor and didn't want to go with him. He was hurt-and he asked Cho." Hermione was stunned. Dozens of emotions hit her-regret, anguish, anger, sadness-and, strangely, a strong sense of being lonely. So unsettled was she that, numbly, she made her way back to Gryffindor Tower. She forgot, even, to forgive Neville. Everything seemed so-so _wrong_ at the moment. She had her greatest dream crash and burn in one day, and than had it come back and sting her again. When she reached the common room, she walked past Ron, though he wasn't the only one in there anymore. She let herself into her dormitory and onto her bed. The terrible longing to be aware of Harrys' feeling was in hindsight. But no tears came to her this time, as if she had been emptied of every one earlier. Instead a gnawing in her stomache persisted until, exhausted, she plummeted onto her pillow and fell asleep. 


	3. A Romance Turns

A Broken Romance

A Broken Romance

[With a little Hogwarts mixed in]

Chapter Three

Hermione slept peacefully well into the night. Her dreams were of the normal: happy and idle. Nothing perplexed her in the least. When she did wake up pink and golden rays of sunlight were squinting through the window directly opposite her bed. To her great surprise, she heard movement and the shuffling of feet. Dazedly, she pulled apart the curtains on her bed to see Lavender Brown scurrying around the dormitory. She appeared to have been awake only a few moments, not unlike Hermione, whom was still wearing her robes and witch's hat from the night before. "Lavender?" Hermione said groggily, "What are you doing up?" "Oh nothing…nice Sunday for a walk isn't it?" She said with jitters in her voice. "You can just go back to sleep I'll only be gone a little while.." "No, Lavender, what is it? You sleep until noon on Sundays!" Hermione would have dearly liked to have also said "And every other day", but resisted the temptation. "Well it's time I break that habit, don't you think?" said Lavender, tugging on her own hat. "Whatever you say, Lavender…" replied Hermione. When Lavender left, Hermione got up as well, and, having nothing to change into as she was already dressed from the day before, slipped quietly out of their dormitory as well. Wondering what she could be doing, or where she could be going this early in the morning, Hermione performed her muteness spell yet again, because she knew Lavender, if not Professor McGongall, would not be able to hear her. For a fleeting moment Hermione deeply wished for Harry's invisibility cloak, smiling as she reminisced of all the good times the three of them had spent under it, but than stopped because thinking of Harry was painful. She dared not to think what would happen if Lavender happened to glance over her shoulder. She followed the girl all the way down to the Great Hall where she saw a very strange sight indeed. Every single one of the Slytherins, at least that was how it seemed, was sitting at their table, eating breakfast in complete silence. Hermione was struck by this because, out of all the Houses in Hogwarts, Slytherin was definitly the loudest. Though George and Fred could give them a run for their money…Speaking of which, none of the other Gryffindors had seemed to arrive yet. Puzzled, Hermione quietly sat down at her seat at the Gryffindor table and took a few pieces of toast. She looked on as Lavender made her way to the Slytherin table and took the one empty seat next to--_next to Draco Malfoy_. Hermione choked on her small bit of toast. Surely that girl had been confused with a Confondus Charm! Draco Malfoy, in the opinion of each and every Gryffindor and dozens of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as well, was as disgusting as a slimy snail inching its way along the ground. She snorted, than realized the mutness spell was still in effect and quickly performed the anti-muteness one. She snorted again, as she saw Draco put his arm around Lavender's shoulders. She went back to her toast, and became so indulged in not looking at the two of them that she didn't even notice someone take the seat next to _her_. She yelped but calmed down when she realized it was only Ron. He gave her a light kiss on the cheek and than began to eat. She gazed at him for a second before yet another someone took the seat on the other side of her. Getting quite used to surprises, Hermione turned to see none other than Neville. He was looking rather shy and helpless at the moment. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry-it's not like it looks!" Cried out Hermione in desperate attempt to salvage her friendship with him. But all he did was shake his head, as though in a trance. Ron started to speak up, but Hermione put a hand on his arm and he got the message. "Neville, I was honored when you asked me to the ball. And I was planning on going with you when I found out-when I thought no one else would." Neville's expression lit up at her words. "Really?" He asked, sounding happier. "Really." Replied Hermione. "Why don't you ask Ginny to the ball? She went to the Yule one with you." "Maybe…" he said, sighing. "Well see you Hermione, Ron.." "See you", they said together. Hermione mulled over the last two days in her head. She didn't know what to do. It was as if her heart were ripping brutally apart. Half of it screamed at her to go back to Harry, to make him realize that she was a better choice than Cho. But the other half-the one, it seemed, that was smarter, told her repeatedly to stay with Ron, the one she had a chance with. Hermione got up, and without thinking, left the Great Hall and went to the library without saying a word to Ron. She left the castle to take a walk around the lake and think things over. However, the idea to stroll that day was obviously not hers' alone. For when she was about a quarter way around, she saw two people sitting behind a large oak. Though she wasn't close enough to tell who it was, she knew enough to think to herself "_No prizes for guessing who_", and she wasn't the least bit surprised. Harry and Cho were laying on a picnic blanket together, though neither was showing any signs of being the tiniest bit hungry for the food they had. They were talking softly, and sometimes, Hermione noticed, weren't talking at all, just gazing into each others' eyes. It was a horrible kind of grief that sliced through her just than. The section of her heart that had persistantly told her to tell Harry her feelings was now being broken. She felt like throwing her lonely self into the lake to be eaten by the giant squid. She crouched down low to hide behind a bush, and, feeling rather foolish, peeked at Harry and his picture-perfect girlfriend. She became so absorbed in watching them that, for the umpteenth time that weekend, she was startled by someone tapping her shoulder. She shrieked and stood up. "Lavender! Where did you come from?" Chortling, Lavender replied, "Just right behind you, though you couldn't have seen me because you were too busy eavesdropping on Harry and Cho!" Hermione flushed deeply and furiously retorted, "I was not!" Grinning, Lavender returned, "Ah, okay…but have you seen Vincent?" Hermione didn't know how to reply to this at first, because it took her a few moments to even realize that she meant Vincent Crabbe, Malfoy's idiot cronie. Recovering, Hermione said, "But why would you want to talk to that huge, stupid prat?" It was now Lavender's turn to flush. "None of your business! Now, have you seen him?" inquired Lavender yet again. "No…No I haven't." Lavender strode away, apparently discouraged. Rather abashed, Hermione trudged back to the castle. There was no point in staying now. She had seen all she wanted to see. Two days ago, this event would have brought tears to her eyes. But now it didn't. Everything was so-so _destroyed_. Right than, Hermione wasn't sure she even knew who she was. Just than, a welcoming figure strode up to her. Ron picked her up by the waist, and holding her above the ground, swung her around in a circle before setting her down again and kissing her lightly on the nose. She smiled, for, it seemed, the first time in weeks. It felt so good to be with Ron. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She sagged against him, listening to the sound of his heart and feeling the warmth of his body through his robes. It was bliss, Hermione thought. Ron suddenly pulled Hermione away from him, though still holding her shoulders in a loving sort of way. "Hermione?" he asked, sounding confused. Equally perplexed, she replied, "Yes?" "Why were you crying yesterday?" She sighed. "Come inside, Ron. I want to tell you somewhere less conspicuous." He followed her up to the castle and into a deserted classroom. "Ron…" Hermione started. He tilted his head and furrowed his brow. For a fleeting second, Hermione thought he was so cute, even if he was considerably, and rather rightfully, out of sorts just than. She dismissed the thought and continued. "On Friday, you know, when Harry and Cho got together, I was studying. You saw me, in the library. I was planning-I was planning on asking Harry to the ball on Saturday but than I found out about them and I got so upset!" She finished lamely. Ron shook his head in disbelief. He found his voice and said, "So that's what I am? A substitute? Just the first guy to be standing around when you found out the _loon_ you really cared for was taken? Well thank you very much, Herm, but I refuse to be played with anymore!" "No! No, Ron, don't leave!" But it was too late. He had angrily ran out and slammed the door behind him. Hermione put her head between her knees and cried. 


	4. A Romance Complicates

A Brokan Romance

A Brokan Romance

[With a little Hogwarts mixed in]

Chapter Four

Hermione didn't even bother to muffle her sobs with her now often-used muteness spell. She didn't care if Professor McGongall, or even , Snape, found her and gave her a weeeks' worth of detention. She doubted she would even resist if Albus Dumbledore himself expelled her from Hogwarts. Nothing mattered any more. She was once again the lonely bookworm. Ron left her. Harry left her. It hurt, hurt in ways she could not even comprehend. Her muscles were weak and stiff when she finally lifted her head. She doubted her complexion was any different from yesterdays', when Ron found her. Ron. The very name sent a slicing through her heart. She, for a few precious hours, had found solace in another human being. But Harry-he still meant something to her. Somewhere, deep inside her, she could still feel the burning flame of the love she had for him. It was as though she was being twisted apart, torn between Ron and Harry. Yet after what she had done, she hardly blamed either of them for being angry with her, even if that wasn't why Harry was ignoring her. Miserably, she tried to straighten her appearance. She easily performed a tricky charm which dried her eyes, covered the puffs around them, and straightened her hair considerably. The only catch was that it wore off in just a few moments time. Hermione flew from the classroom, through the now empty corridors, up the familiar staircases, around the sharp corners and through the portrait hole once again. The sight was surprisingly not upsetting to her. Harry was sitting on the couch, holding Cho in his arms. She lay across his lap, looking happy as ever. Hermione drew a breath. No more tears, she thought. They wouldn't help anything. So she drew herself up to her full height and did what she never would have thought possible. She sat on the lumpy armchair next to the loveseat where Harry and Cho were and began to read the first thing she could find-yesterday's Daily Prophet. Since she hadn't been in the Great Hall to pick up her copy the other morning, she hadn't read any of it. She snorted. Rita Skeeter had the article on the first page, though, because Hermione had caught her last year under two charges (being on the Hogwarts grounds and working as an unregistered Animagus) it wasn't derogatory. Smiling slightly, Hermione turned the page. All was usual around the Ministry of Magic. An old lady with an exploding vacuum cleaner had accidently sold it to a muggle and fined for "Misuse of Muggle Artifacts", the office where Mr. Weasley worked. Thinking of Ron, again, brought a stab of pain through her, but Hermione took a deep breath again and the feeling passed. Hermione flipped through the Prophet casually until she reached the Personals. Yes, though it was somewhat disgraceful, witches and wizards _did_ take this custom from anti-magic people and used it as a fun addition to their paper. One particular personal caught her eye. It read as follows, "To the witty, copper-haired, blue-eyed, Gryffindor 5th year whom has a taste for guys from Bulgaria but doesn't like Quidditch: I love you. I watch you every day, inspecting your every graceful move. I want to be with you more than anything. Meet me at the Great Hall at 6:00 PM on Sunday. I will be at the entrance waiting for you." Hermione shuddered. She hated those. There were so _creepy._ Who would want to know that some psychopath liked them. As if! She thought about the Quidditch part. There weren't very many witches that didn't like Quidditch, herself included. Hermione thought about all the 5th years in her dormitory. Lavender fit the description, though she wasn't sure if Lavender's eyes were blue and if she liked guys from Bulgaria. She was sure Parvati wasn't the one. Mulling it over, Lavender was the only possible answer. Shrugging, Hermione kept reading. The rest were pretty standard, she saw, as usual, several to Fleur Delacour, the part-veela that had been at Hogwarts last year for the Triwizard Tournament. Hermione forgot that Harry and Cho were in the room until she finally stood up and put down the Prophet. She held down a yelp. Slightly tired, she made her way up to her dormitory where she decided to study for a quiz in the History of Magic they would have the next day. As she went to sit down on her bed, she passed the magic mirror on the wall. She stopped dead, than turned to look at it again. An extremely smart girl with bushy copper hair and huge blue eyes stared back at her. Krum! Krum was from Bulgaria! And everyone knew that she wasn't fond of Quidditch! Gasping, Hermione looked at the clock on the wall. Quarter to six! If she was going to go down to the Great Hall and meet her mystery admirer, she had better do it soon! Fifteen minutes later Hermione was rushing down to greet her date before he gave up and left. Breathless, she halted in front of the entrance to the Hall. Dozens of students were eating their dinner there already, though most waited until after seven to do so. Once again, Hermione noticed that there were almost all the Slytherins eating simontaniously. She took her post again, waiting for whoever it was. She looked down at her nails as she waited. She twiddled her thumbs as she waited. She crosses and uncrossed her legs below the ankles as she waited. But still no one came. Five more minutes, she thought, she would give them five more minutes. So she did. And she gave them another five minutes…and another, and another. Until finally it was 7:30 and Hermione disgustedly sat down at the Gryffindor table. She had waited around for an hour and a half for someone who didn't even come. She disdainfully bit into a piece of chicken. Losing her appetite, she placed it back down on her plate and rushed out of the Hall yet again. Whoever did this to her _would_ pay, she would make sure of that! She stomped, not to Gryffindor Tower, but, in fact, to the room of Professor Trelawney. She knew that, even though she had ran out of Divanation the year before, the professor would be overly anxious to show off her "vision". When she neared her office, she slowed down, walking softly in order to not make a big fuss. She tapped lightly on Professor Trelawney's door. "Yes, my child?" came the wispy voice of Trelawney. Hermione shakily opened the door and sat down in front of Professor Trelawney's desk. The room was cluttered in star charts, tea bags, planetariums, and crystal balls. Two poufs were in front of her ornately carved desk and the chintz armchair the professor sat in was pink and flowery. The professor had her eyes closed, as though in a trance. "Er, Professor Trelawney, this is Hermione Granger-you know, the one you said had no aura and left your class in April of last year?" Professor Trelawney flinched a bit when she heard this but nodded. "Well", said Hermione, pressing on , "I figure you were right. I'm a horrible hand at this stuff and I need your help. Someone set me up and bailed on me today, and I need to find out who. I promise, I'll do anything you want if you can tell me." Professor Trelawney didn't move, but opened her eyes very slightly. "So you wish for my asssitance with the eye, Miss Granger." "Er…yes." "On normal circumstances, you do understand, this would be unheard of. But since I was gazing recently I found out that something very important, and indeed, very tangled, is going to happen to you, I suppose I must. Follow me." Professor Trelawney finally got up and lead Hermione to a back room. There was a small table, quite like a muggle card table, in the center, under which a small, glowing red ball was hovering. It was beautiful, the bright hues dancing and flickering like flames and the ball itself staying perfectly still. Hermione stared at it for moment until the professor began to speak. "Alas, I cannot do this for you. This can only be used by those who do not possess the power of the eye, so I rarely even look at it. What I need for you to do is stare it. It may take seconds, minutes, sometimes even hours. However, eventually a form will appear there, and they will be the answer to your question. Mind you, all I'm saying is that they will be the answer to your question, and not necessarily the one you are searching for. I must bid you good-bye now. Good luck." Hermione watched as Professor Trelawney left the room. She sat down in front of the ball and stared very hard at it, thinking all the while that it was very stupid. After several moments, however, a dark figure appeared across it. At first Hermione thought it was Lord Voldemort, but than she dismissed the idea as ridiculous. Besides, the figure was now becoming more distinct, and was most definitly the sillhouette of a boy. The image became sharper and sharper. The person was wearing scarlet Quidditch robes and holding a broomstick. The face was still fuzzy, however. And than for a split second, right before the whole picutre disappeared, Hermione saw a bright, lighting shape on what had to have been the boy's forehead. 


	5. A Romance Reaches A Fork In The Road

A Broken Romance

A Broken Romance

[With a little Hogwarts mixed in]

Chapter Five

Sitting in Charms, Ron found himself guiltily thinking of Hermione. Professor Flitwick had given them the period to work on their Invisibility Spell, trying to make black beetles disappear for a length of time and then reappear again. He put his tongue between his teeth, and, concentrating on the spell and trying not to think about Hermione (though the latter had become increasingly more difficult); he pointed his wand and said, "Invisiperio!" For a second the beetle became transparent, and just when Ron thought he had finally mastered the charm, it came back again, looking somehow even bolder and blacker than before. He groaned. Hermione would be able to help him figure this out. She would have figured it out herself in under a minute, probably thinking of using it on Draco Malfoy. She probably could have done it, too. But Ron forced himself to let his thoughts wander to her. He would have dearly liked to see Draco disappear forever, but he knew wishing it would happen wouldn't do anything about it. So, deflated, he went back to his beetle. Its bold black armor seemed to shine with a light of its own. _Hermione's hair used to shine like that_. Ron thought without realizing it. But it was true. Hermione's hair had been so thick, glossy and shiny. Ron had loved to run his fingers through it when they were making out. _Stop, stop, stop, stop!_ He yelled to himself, inside his own head. He _had_ to stop thinking of her! Could he…could he make up with her? Could he let it go that she had recently been in love with his BEST friend and had only gone with him to make up for her loss? _No!_ No, he couldn't. He had his pride, too! Of course…that was why, not thirty seconds after the bell had rung to leave Charms, Ron was bolting to Professor Vector's room-Arithmancy, where Hermione would just be departing. Panting, he swooped into the dusty classroom. It was decidedly vacant. No Hermione, no Professor Vector…no, they had to be there! Ron had memorized Hermione's schedule and, right now, she-and the rest of her class-should be scrambling towards the door. He checked one last time to make sure no one was there, a useless effort, before running to lunch. He hadn't gone three steps before smacking into a body. He fell backwards instantaneously, dazed, with the wind knocked out of him. A hand reached down to help him up, and he took it graciously. Clutching at his side, he focused on the stranger. Harry stood before him; looking concerned and-_there was no Cho next to him_. Ron blinked excessively. When his vision cleared, the image in front of him hadn't changed. He was delirious. He had to be. Harry, without Cho? That hadn't happened for what must've been weeks. Ron glanced away to clear his head, than stared unbelievingly at Harry. Hallucinations! Ron was positive now; Harry-and Harry alone-was blocking his path. "W-where's Cho?" Ron blurted out. He hadn't spoken to Harry in days and the first words of out his were, (in Ron's mind) 'Where the f*** is your girlfriend?' Great friend, huh? Harry numbly shook his head, saying nothing. "What happened?" Ron pressed. Harry's expression was genuinely discouraged, an emotion Ron had hardly ever seen from Harry. Harry licked dry lips as though he hadn't said a word in hours, cleared his throat, and quietly replied. "She dumped me." Ron was in dismay. A thousand questions flew to his brain, fogging it spectacularly. He opened his mouth numerous times, finally bursting with all the things he had to know, and sentences poured from him. "Why? Where is she? How do you know she didn't-how come you didn't-for who?" Ron suppressed his questions, provisionally. Harry didn't respond. He turned his back to Ron sluggishly, shrugging only enough so that Ron could make out the scanty motion. Ron desperately desired further answers. He struggled against the flow of students like a salmon swimming upriver, unable to trail Harry. Harry, whom had so effortlessly proceeded abreast classmates far from Ron, was gone now-without a clue for Ron to pick up and track. Ron was compelled to track towards lunch, this time blending with the rest of the hungry students. Hermione was sitting, isolated, at one lonely end of the Gryffindor Table. Ron yearned to sit by her, talk and fraternize with her like old times, but better judgment and over consciousness held him back. Halfway through his treacle pudding, Ron stood up unwillingly. His feet took him to Hermione as though he was being controlled and his mind couldn't decide his actions. She must have felt it unnecessary to look up, she was sure by his presence that it was Ron. He drew in breath, preparing himself to tell her. Seconds passed. Still, no sound from Ron. He gulped. "Hermione-Cho dumped Harry." It wasn't what he had meant to say. He was going to apologize to her (for what, storming out on her and saying cruel words? Hadn't she done just as much?) and ask if she would take him back. Instead, he turned into someone as hopeless as Parvati or Lavender, spreading gossip like a disease. Ron was so caught up in scolding himself mentally he barely caught Hermione's reaction to this piece of information. For a fleeting moment she was speechless, eyes wide with shock. Her whole expression was dumbfounded. Than, white as a sheet, she ran from the room, leaving her turkey sandwich unattended. Ron silently regarded her and, still following her retreating figure with his eyes, picked up the remnants of lunch with his peripheral vision and took a bite absentmindedly. 

Hermione decided that she should have her ears checked. Cho. Dump Harry. It was unthinkable, a fervent hope and dream of hers, obviously, but had it actually come true? Could she let herself believe it? Cho and Harry had been inseparable until just recently. It struck Hermione, as she lay on her lavish bed in the Gryffindor Tower, that now Harry was available. On the menu. Decidedly like Ron, she had her choice. Had Harry not sought her out before Cho to take him to the ball? Hadn't she, not the prettiest (and most popular) Ravenclaw, Cho, been Harry's first choice? Could she not steal him now, while he was up for grabs, and keep him forever? _She could have Harry_. Metaphorically, but still the thought enlightened her. Harry wasn't tied down anymore. Hermione rushed toward the door of her dormitory and had just rested her hand on the doorknob when another idea came upon her. Cho-he would, invariably, not want any other girl, presumably until after he had recovered from the loss of her. If he did, Hermione knew he must have liked her for some time to ask her out, Harry was like that. She marveled at how well she knew Harry, and how Cho didn't. She had the advantage. _Ron_. It was one word, but it caused her to sit back down on her bed gently anyway. Ron-she knew him even better. Knew his touch, his smell and his feel. Knew that he would treat her like a queen. An enticing prospect. She had Harry on one side, whom she had loved for almost five years now, and Ron on the other-who had turned out to be the best boyfriend she could have possibly imagined. How could she decide? It was like choosing between Europe and America; they were both colossal and amazing in their own aspects. Hermione had reached a turning point. She had two choices, two paths to speculate and judge. Which was better? What a question! Tomato or tamahto, how should everyone be directed to say it? The decisions were parallels. Hermione, with great difficulty, lay down on her back; eagle spread (her thinking position) and pondered. Harry, or Ron. Ron, or Harry. She, for the first time in her entire life, did not know the answer to a problem. Which was problem in itself. They swung like pendulums through her mind. Harry-her crush (though crush was not the right word, it was too girly and fickle) or Ron-her ex? Swing, Harry. Swing, Ron. Back and forth, endless. Harry…Ron…Harry…Ron…


	6. A Romance Blossoms

Hermione stared into those emerald green eyes and melted

Hermione stared into those emerald green eyes and melted. She washed over the jades, olives, and aquas that swam before her. She wished to stay, immobilized, in his pupils forever, because that was the only thing that really mattered to her. "Herm?" That gentle, soothing, caressing voice flowed into her, intoxicating her. Instead of replying, Hermione smiled. A dazzling smile, her trademark light-bulb smile, and seeing it made Harry shiver. "Hermione?" He whispered his tone one octave lower. "Yes?" This time she answered, not really caring that she sounded like a seductive slut. "What's the Potions homework?" Harry broke the moment, and cracked a wide grin. Hermione swatted his shoulder playfully. They stood in the Gryffindor Common on a dark February night, discussing-well, just discussing. Won't give that away just yet. Hermione was on the verge of her decision, although she was still apt to make a few changes. She continued to gaze into his eyes, which sparkled and gleamed with a thousand different emotions, each color representing something different. She fell into their safety, and she relished in their depths. She swirled in them, those eyes that had dragged her willingly past reason and expectation, those eyes that she adored. She felt that time elapsed when he was near. She stiffened her resolve. "Harry, I choose you." Harry blinked wonderingly for a few moments, probably thinking along the lines of 'Pikachu, I choose you', though Hermione couldn't be sure. She searched Harry's face for any sign of emotion, and than it lit up with recognition. "Oh! Yes, Hermione. Yes." Hermione hugged him fiercely, glad to have the weight of indecision off her chest. She knew she had made the right choice. Or had she? Late that night Hermione tossed in her bed, sheets soaked with cold sweat. She was having horrible dreams; each haunted by a vision of Ron. Each time she could her herself screaming, perhaps aloud, perhaps in her mind, "No! I love Harry! I do!" And each time she knew she was feeling less and less sure of this fact, as the grains of sand and love that she cupped so preciously fell inevitably through her fingers. She awoke, and she had not forgotten her visions. She was sure they meant something, they always did, but did it really mean she was meant to be with Ron? Could she have made the wrong selection, unknowingly? As if to steady herself, when she reached the Great Hall for breakfast, she sat without question on Harry's lap. He didn't object, just looked mildly-and pleasantly-surprised. This made her feel slightly better, maybe because she had longed for his touch for years. Soon afterward, however, the two of them, along with the rest of the students in the hall, had to head towards the morning lesson. Hermione hung protectively on Harry's arm, which comforted her. Hermione hoped Harry wasn't perturbed. All during Charms, Hermione insisted upon holding Harry's hand, though it made classwork very difficult. There was slight turbulence in paradise after Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon, though Hermione tried and tried to stop it. Cho approached a nervous-looking Harry in the corridor, her black her shining like a raven's feather and her black eyes burning like coals. Hermione shuddered. She gripped Harry's hand reassuringly, and he squeezed back lightly. "Harry, we need to talk." Cho's voice was like a snake slithering over rocks, or silk rustling. She pierced him with those ebony eyes. "Alone." She finished, smirking. "Whatever you have to say to me, I'm sure you can say it in front of my girlfriend." Harry projected the last word, and Hermione was grateful. "That? That is your girlfriend?" Cho said incredulously, her cruel words stinging Hermione. Yet once again Harry came to Hermione's defense. "Well, you used to be my girlfriend, and I figure she's at least a couple steps up from you, so what does that make you?" He retorted, ever calm. Cho was just as collected. "Tut, tut. Having to defend poor a muggle-born, how pathetic." Hermione felt Harry's anger pulsing into her through her palm. "Not as pathetic as you are, insulting someone's bloodline because you have nothing else to belittle." Hermione was amazed at his cool. He raised an eyebrow at Cho, who was now standing hand-on-hip in an oh-so-aggressive manner. She replied, effortlessly. "Oh, is that what you think? Try this on for size. Your so-called 'girlfriend' should be called a 'chipmunkfriend', after all that is what she resembles most." Cho beat Harry down with that stare and the lot of them became unaware of the students milling past them, sometimes crashing into them, in the race to get to dinner. Hermione, who had been silent until then, added her two cents to the conversation. "Anyone can tell that you're only doing this to get Harry back." The spite in her voice shocked her. It was Cho's turn to raise an eyebrow. "So the chipmunk speaks," she said at last, "and yes, I am. I'm going to get him back, too, you chipmunk. You don't stand a chance." She turned on her heel and left. Hermione was shaking, gripping onto Harry's hand as though it were a lifesaver. "Harry," she said meekly, "you don't plan on taking her back-do you?" She glanced at him quickly. "No." Harry's reply was short, and instant. As if to further reassure her, he kissed her on the cheek for only the second time. Hermione moved with lightning speed and caught him on the mouth. They kissed passionately in the middle of the hallway with classmates still rushing about them. Happy, idle chatter surrounded them and the faraway smell of dinner tantalized their nostrils. Still they kissed a kiss that was as hot and fiery as it had begun, some ten minutes ago. When they broke apart Hermione was dizzy. Harry secretly realized that kissing Cho had never made him feel that way. When he kissed Hermione, he was complete. He liked that feeling. He loved Hermione. He told her so, evenly, dipping into her own chestnut pupils, getting his feet wet. She nodded, before murmuring in his ear, "I love you too, Harry." Even before she said it, Harry felt guilt spreading through him. It wasn't as though he still had feelings for Cho, he just-wasn't sure. Hermione was feeling the same, although about Ron. Her mind kept sneaking glances at him. She drove these away and lay her head on Harry's shoulder. Harry could hide away that guiltiness when Hermione was touching him, however. It was an act of nature, he thought, to think guiltily about being with another girl right after a breakup. It wasn't as though he wanted Cho back. He couldn't do that. Not to himself, to Hermione, even to Cho. He couldn't help this bit of remorse, although he wasn't quite sure why. It was a preposterous idea that he may be wishing he had seized the chance of getting back with Cho. He didn't even like Cho. True, he liked her looks. He loved everything about Hermione. On the other hand, Hermione was questioning her faith in Harry not leaving her for Cho. He had seemed like he would stay with Hermione when Cho was there, but after she had left? Hermione was almost positive she felt a hint of regret in Harry's kisses. She wanted him to love her, and only her, and she loved him. And only-she stopped herself. Did she only love him? Did she even really love him at all, or did her heart belong to Ron? She couldn't decide. She shook her head viciously and scolded herself. Of course she loved Harry! Had she not told herself that for five years? Had she not spent many a restless night thinking about him, yearning for him, longing for him? Had she not went out of her way to be horrified when Harry had begun dating Cho? She could make no sense of it. Head or tail of her newly found feelings. God, she wasn't even sure of whom she wanted to be dating! It was all a terrible mess. Hermione could feel, however, the tangled web of emotions following her all the rest of the night, plaguing her. She pushed them aside forcefully as she fell into a troubled sleep. 


End file.
